


Parentage

by GreyLiliy



Series: A Cappella [5]
Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One)
Genre: Angst, Children of Characters, Drama, Gen, Kidnapping, Unhealthy Relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-06
Updated: 2013-11-06
Packaged: 2021-02-27 21:27:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,235
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22822537
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GreyLiliy/pseuds/GreyLiliy
Summary: They had the same face.
Relationships: Pharma/Tarn
Series: A Cappella [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1640695
Kudos: 16





	Parentage

**Author's Note:**

> [First posted to Tumblr on November 6, 2013 as “A Cappella #4 - Parentage.” Crossposted to Archive of Our Own on February 20, 2020. Only the work itself has been posted.]

They had the same face.

Tarn paused the recording of a surveillance tape. The Autobots had settled near one of their targets, and while they were more than capable of handling it, it was neater to gather intel first. No need to start a fuss with the leftover Autobots if he could avoid it. However, he wasn’t expecting to see that face.

“Pharma,” Tarn said to himself, touching his finger to the screen.

No, no it wasn’t his lost doctor. For one, the doctor had perished long ago, killed by his own precious Autobots. This was someone else. Tarn zoomed in on the familiar white face and frowned behind his mask. The helm color was wrong—white instead of red. And the alt-mode was all wrong as well. The mech in the center of his screen was a tank, not a jet. Tarn leaned back—but the face. The nose, the shape was Pharma’s.

“Vos,” Tarn called. The rifle appeared, leaning over his shoulder like the good soldier he was. Always ready when needed. Tarn pointed at the screen, and leaned back. “Find out everything about this mech. I want to know it all.”

His loyal subordinate nodded, and left the room without hesitation. Tarn stared at the picture on the screen, wondering. Wondering what he’d find.

LINEBREAK

Tarn tapped his finger on the desk, the thorough report from Vos before him. The data-pad was full of medical charts and general observations from the therapist Rung.

The youngling’s name was A Cappella. He was one frame away from his adult upgrade, and his alt-mode was a custom tank. His build was lighter than normal for a heavy piece of machinery, but the fusion canon on his back was equal to Tarn’s own. According to the documentation, he was sparked from a union between Pharma–which explained his facial features–and the traitor Ambulon. Both were listed as dead.

Pharma had hidden away the child, until he was found by the Lost Light crew. He was raised by Ambulon and First Aid, up until Ambulon’s passing at the hands of–Pharma, of all mechs. Pharma met his own end at the same battle, and the child became the sole custody of CMO First Aid.

Currently he was still under First Aid’s guardianship, though he was still looking for his primary function.

Pharma had had a child. A tiny little sparkling hidden far away, and Tarn had no clue that he’d existed all this time. Tarn’s fist clenched on the desk. And the other parent was a Decepticon traitor no less. How shameful. Pharma had better taste than–Tarn released his fingers. Pharma despised Decepticons. As much as he had protected the traitor, he wasn’t fond of the mech.

Pharma never would have interfaced with him. It took a threat upon his life for Pharma to join with Tarn.

Tarn pulled up a photograph on the main screen. His alt-Mode was a tank, and he was decorated with purple highlights against Pharma’s coloring. The symbol in the center of his chevron was distinctly Decepticon shaped. At the time of his conception, Pharma was warming Tarn’s berth. The Decepticon Justice Division leader snapped his hand into a fist.

This child belonged to Tarn.

* * *

“ A Cappella, are you sure you’re going to be okay?”

The youth snorted, glaring at his guardian. A Cappella crossed his arms, and hunched his shoulders. “I’m going to the supply depot, First Aid. Not across the planet.”

“I know, I just–”

“Worry, I know,” A Cappella said. “I’ll be back soon, okay?”

“Take care,” First Aid sighed, rubbing A Cappella on the helm.

The youngling allowed the touch, he knew when to pick his battles, and left without a word when Aid let go. A Cappella stretched as he tapped his way down the empty street, passing the random mech here or there. There weren’t many out at this hour, and he himself would be curled up and reading, but Aid needed a part. He’d run out, and the patient needed it sooner than later.

A Cappella volunteered to get it.

Rounding the corner at the end of the street, he felt a chill. He turned around looking for someone else, anybody else to alleviate the feeling. It was because he was alone, that was all. A Cappella was freaking himself out.

That was all.

“A Cappella,” a deep voice said. The sound of it sent shivers down the named youth’s frame. “Look at you.”

“Who?” A Cappella asked. He turned and looked up–way up. A large mech, at least three times his height, towered over him. His face was covered in a mask shaped like a Decepticon Logo. A Cappella tensed, every inch of him feeling a new sort of horror. “Who’re you?”

“My, my. They have kept you in the dark, haven’t they?” The tall mech shook his head and took a few stomping steps toward A Cappella. He kneeled on one knee, and looked A Cappella optic-to-mask. “I knew that they lied to you, but to not know me at all? Such carelessness.”

“What are you talking about?” A Cappella asked, leaning away from the mech and his heavy body. He wanted to run, but something told him it would be a bad idea. “Who are you?”

“I’m Tarn,” the giant mech said. Tarn touched the side of A Cappella’s face, and he felt his spark freeze in his chest. “And you are my child, born of myself and my once dear doctor, Pharma.”

“I think you’ve mistaken me for someone else,” A Cappella said, slowly and carefully. He readied his voice, just in case he needed it. He’d scream, and run when the mech fell over. A Cappella took a step back. “Pharma carried me, but his parter was Ambulon.”

“That, dear child,” Tarn said, reaching out his arm to grab A Cappella’s arm. The thick fingers curled around his arm and squeezed, pulling the youngling closer. Tarn’s kind words clashed with the painful grip on A Cappella’s arm. “Was a lie. I can tell you without a shred of doubt, that you’re mine.”

“No,” A Cappella shook his head. He shoved at the purple hand, trying to get it off. “That can’t be right.”

“Where do you think that lovely fusion canon and treads of yours came from?” Tarn asked, brushing his hand against the canon. He tapped his finger on A Cappella’s neck. “Or your lovely voice?”

“My voice?” A Cappella asked, shaking his head. Tarn couldn’t know. That was his secret with Aid and Uncle Ratchet! No one knew about his voice! “W-what are you talking about?”

“You know,” Tarn said, with the authority of someone who did know. He whispered near A Cappella’s helm, “You know exactly what we can do with this lovely voice of ours.”

The voice was low, and A Cappella felt something move in his chest. He felt it. It was the same. The sensation he’d heard described to him when he practiced his control. It was the same. A Cappella shook his head, clutching at his breast plate. “You can do it, too.”

“As I said,” Tarn whispered. His hand was on A Cappella’s face, a thumb brushing his cheek. A Cappella shivered desperately, pulling his arm to no avail. Tarn’s grip didn’t budge, and A Cappella remained trapped. Tarn pulled A Cappella into a hug, and whispered, “You’re mine.“


End file.
